X:1
T:The New-Fashioned Farmer
B:Everymans Book of English Country Songs, Ed Roy Palmer, ISBN 0-460-12048-4
S:John Denny, Nevinton, Essex, 25.4.1904
Z:Ralph Vaughan Williams MS II 124
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w:Good peo-ple all, I pray at-tend And list-en to my
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w:stor-y How the farm-ers used to live In our na-tive
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w:count-ry (When mast-ers liv'd as mast-ers ought And hap-py in their
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w:stat-ion Un-til at length their stink-ing pride Has ruin-'d half the
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w:na-tion) Fol del lol lol, fol de lol lol li-do
W:Good people all, I pray attend
W:And listen to my story,
W:Of how the farmers used to live
W:In our native country.
W:[When masters liv'd as masters ought
W:And happy in their station
W:Until at last their stinking pride
W:Has ruined half the nation]
W:
W:Fol del lol lol, fol de lol lol lido
W:
W:A good old-fashion'd long grey coat
W:The farmers us'd to wear, sir,
W:And on old Dobbin they would ride,
W:To market or to fair, sir,
W:But now fine geldings they must mount,
W:To join all in the chase, sir,
W:Dress'd up like any lord or 'squire,
W:Before their landlord's face, sir.
W:
W:In former times, both plain and neat,
W:They'd go to church on Sunday,
W:And then to harrow, plough, or sow,
W:They'd go upon a Monday;
W:But now, instead of the plough-tail,
W:O'er hedges they are jumping,
W:And instead of sowing of their corn,
W:Their delight is in fox-hunting.
W:
W:The good old dames, God bless their names,
W:Were seldom in a passion,
W:But strove to keep a right good house,
W:And never thought on fashion;
W:With fine brown beer their hearts to cheer,
W:But now they must drink swipes, sir,
W:It's enough to make a strong man weak,
W:And give him the dry gripes, sir.
W:
W:The farmers' daughters us'd to work
W:All at the spinning wheel, sir,
W:But now such furniture as that
W:It thought quite ungenteel, sir,
W:Their fingers they're afraid to spoil
W:With any kind of sport, sir,
W:Sooner than handle a mop or broom,
W:They'd handle a piano-forte, sir
W:
W:Their dress was always plain and warm,
W:When in their holyday clothes, sir,
W:Besides, they has such handsome cheeks,
W:As red as any rose, sir,
W:But now they're frill'd and furbelow'd,
W:Just like a dancing monkey,
W:Their bonnets and their great black veils
W:Would almost fright a donkey.
W:
W:When wheat it was a guinea a strike,
W:The farmers bore the sway, sir,
W:Now with their landlords they will ride,
W:Upon each hunting day, sir,
W:Besides, their daughters they must join
W:The ladies at the ball, sir,
W:The landlord say, we'll double the rents
W:And then their pride must fall, sir.
W:
W:I hope no one will think amiss,
W:At what has here been penn'd, sir,
W:But let's hope that these hard times
W:May speedily amend, sir,
W:It's all through such confounded pride,
W:Has brought them to reflection,
W:It makes poor servants' wages low,
W:And keeps them in subjection.